Ярмарка тщеславия

Full of Business and Pleasure

           "Comeandtalktome.Sityonderonthechair";andshegavethecivilian’shandalittlesqueezeandlaughinglyplacedhimuponit.Asforherself,sheplacedherselfonthebed—notonthebottleandplate,youmaybesure—onwhichJosmighthavereposed,hadhechosenthatseat;andsothereshesatandtalkedwithheroldadmirer."Howlittleyearshavechangedyou,"shesaidwithalookoftenderinterest."Ishouldhaveknownyouanywhere.Whatacomfortitisamongststrangerstoseeoncemorethefrankhonestfaceofanoldfriend!"

           Thefrankhonestface,totellthetruth,atthismomentboreanyexpressionbutoneofopennessandhonesty:itwas,onthecontrary,muchperturbedandpuzzledinlook.Joswassurveyingthequeerlittleapartmentinwhichhefoundhisoldflame.Oneofhergownshungoverthebed,anotherdependingfromahookofthedoor;herbonnetobscuredhalfthelooking-glass,onwhich,too,laytheprettiestlittlepairofbronzeboots;aFrenchnovelwasonthetablebythebedside,withacandle,notofwax.Beckythoughtofpoppingthatintothebedtoo,butsheonlyputinthelittlepapernight-capwithwhichshehadputthecandleoutongoingtosleep.

           "Ishouldhaveknownyouanywhere,"shecontinued;"awomanneverforgetssomethings.AndyouwerethefirstmanIever—Ieversaw."

           "WasIreally?"saidJos."Godblessmysoul,you—youdon’tsayso."

           "WhenIcamewithyoursisterfromChiswick,Iwasscarcelymorethanachild,"Beckysaid.

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